


Odmor

by sunflower_swan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, POV Harry Potter, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_swan/pseuds/sunflower_swan
Summary: After years of working a job he was expected to take, dating the person he was expected to date, and living a less-than-satifying life, Harry finds himself craving change. Inspiration for disruption comes from an unexpected place: Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Prompt Exchange 2020





	Odmor

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Pen15isMightierPromptExchange2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Pen15isMightierPromptExchange2020) collection. 



> **The Pen15 is Mightier (FB) Prompt Exchange 2020**  
>  Prompt: _The Hogwarts staff go on an exotic holiday together! You pick the destination (a cruise in Alaska? A sunny resort in the Bahamas? Trekking through the Himalayas?) The trip results in unexpected and steamy sex. There's a good build-up with glances and saucy flirting and double entendre. If you want, throw in (the risk of them) being caught in the act by their colleagues!_
> 
> This was supposed to be an easy less than 5K smut fest until plot smacked me in the head. It’s still basically a smut fest, but closer to 15K...oops.
> 
> THANK YOU to everyone who read all or parts of this in one version or another, and provided help, encouragement, and feedback! I appreciate you all: TheUltimateUndesirable, ChuckAl, HLW, and justtoarguewithyou.
> 
> Thank you to the organizers of this prompt exchange! I'm sorry this is nearly three weeks late. Hopefully, it is worth the wait. ;)

**Friday**

Harry stood in the doorway to his new office and looked around -- it was much different from his old office. For example, the entrance to his old office was not reached after first walking through a classroom and up a small flight of stairs, and neither did it contain an attached sleeping chamber. 

He reflected on the parade of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors during his time at Hogwarts. Quirrell, whose main issue was Lord Voldemort sticking out the back of his head and died as a result. Lockhart, who took credit for the work of other wizards smarter than him and ended up on the wrong end of his own memory charm. Lupin, the best and bravest of them all, and lost before his time. Moody was great, if a little unconventional, until he turned out to be a polyjuice imposter. (Turned out the real Moody was also great and a little unconventional.) Umbridge -- the toad -- the vile, revolting, excuse of a human. And Snape, the man who lived his life as a villain but died as a hero.

If Harry could last more than one year without dying or ending up in St. Mungo’s, then he would be ahead of the curve. It was a pretty low bar once he thought about it. A small weight of uncertainty he had been carrying lifted and was replaced by nervous excitement. This was going to be different, but different was what he needed.

The large box containing magicked smaller packed boxes began to feel quite heavy, and Harry placed it on the mahogany desk with a thud. He removed the smaller boxes one-by-one, making them larger to read the hastily scribbled label on the outside. Some boxes stayed here in his office while others went into the sleeping chamber or small adjoined ensuite.

As Harry unpacked his belongings, he pondered that his path to Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had been inevitable, especially after he and Ginny broke up a year ago and everything that followed after.

_ Flashback - One Year Ago (Leaky Cauldron) _

Harry sat at a small table facing the entrance with his back to the wall, a habit from Auror training and years of near-death experiences. His third stout was going down faster and smoother than the first two had. He leaned his head back against the wall and let out a long, slow, exhale.

Breaking up with Ginny was one of the most difficult things he had done in his life, although they both agreed it was for the best. He wanted her to be happy and knew that couldn’t happen with him.

As his eyes swept the room -- constant vigilance -- they paused on a familiar face he had not seen in many years. The sleek blonde hair, sharp aristocratic features, and smug expression were unmistakable though, even from this distance.

Draco Malfoy occupied a table alone, nursing a short tumbler of an amber-coloured liquid. 

For a moment, Harry considered joining him, seeing as how they were both on their own tonight. One could not call the pair friends, but they were no longer the enemies of their youth.

He asked himself what  _ he  _ would do if Draco attempted to sit at his table without an invitation... Ha! -- Who was he kidding? -- No self-respecting Slytherin would socialize with another lonely person, of their own volition, unless they stood something to gain. How might Draco react to Harry’s uninvited presence? More to the point, who cared?

Harry stood and strode confidently to Draco’s table. Draco did not look up until he was standing right in front of him.

Draco’s ice grey eyes moved, unhurried, from his tumbler, up Harry’s torso, to his face, and stayed there for a long second.

“Hi,” Harry lamely said.

“Potter.” His insipid tone reflected the disinterest etched on his face.

_ Maybe this was a bad idea _ , Harry thought, but he had made it this far, no sense in turning back now.

“May I join you?” Harry asked.

Draco gestured with an open hand at the chair Harry stood behind.

He interpreted this action as an invitation, which was more than he expected, pulled out the chair and sat down.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Draco drawled.

His eyes sliced Harry like a knife, causing his insides to squirm from the heavy, concentrated attention.

Harry fidgeted in his seat.

“Well, uh,” he stammered, “I was sitting over there.” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “And I was by myself, and I noticed you were by yourself, and I thought you might like some company because um...we were both by ourselves.”

Draco merely raised an eyebrow once Harry stopped yammering.

Was it hot in here, or was it just Harry? He felt very self-conscious under Draco’s silent, piercing stare.

“Right,” Draco finally said. “I suppose there’s no harm in small talk. How about that weather, huh?”

He took a sip of his drink, and Harry watched as the rim of the glass disappeared between his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Harry laughed at Draco’s small talk attempt. It was definitely at Draco and not at how awkward he felt, sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, noticing Draco’s lips and neck a bit more than necessary.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, unseasonably warm for this time of year, isn’t it?”

Before Draco could respond with another meaningless topic of conversation, Harry interrupted him.

“You know, I find small talk to be useless and irritating. We could talk about something, I don’t know, real...you know?” 

Draco blinked and tilted his head to the side. “What brings you to the Leaky, alone, on a weeknight?”

Harry leaned back. Cutting-through-the-bullcrap Draco was almost as unnerving as silent-and-scrutinizing Draco.

“Well…” Harry searched for the right words to help him explain. “...I’m feeling a little bummed...but also happy. If that makes any sense because it doesn’t to me, and I was looking for some introspection at the bottom of this glass.” He tilted his pint glass, thick foam slid down the inside.

Across the table, Draco nodded. “I understand the happy-sad feeling. What’s the cause?”

Could he trust Draco with this information? Harry’s breakup was not a secret, but not having it splashed all over the Prophet would be nice. He took a deep breath, searching the depths of the stout for his fortitude before answering.

“Ginny and I broke up,” he confessed.

Draco’s eyebrows shot up at this admission. “When?”

“Yesterday.”

“So is that your reason for drinking alone?”

Harry nodded, then tilted back the pint and finished off the last half of his stout. Setting the empty glass on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he said, “What about you?”

Draco contemplatively peered into Harry’s eyes. “Same. Sort of.”

Harry remained silent and patiently waited for him to continue.

After a pregnant pause, he did.

“I finally stood up to my father and broke off the arranged engagement with Astoria.” Draco frowned into his firewhisky. “I need to find my own way without him or his influence.”

Harry was stunned. That pronouncement didn’t seem like an easy decision or something that was even done in Draco’s social circle. He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and worried his lower lip as he considered his next question carefully. The last thing he wanted now that they were engaging in real conversation was to scare Draco off.

“Why did you break off the engagement?” he quietly asked.

Draco’s eyes snapped back to his. “It was time to live life on my terms and not those people expected of me. What about you? Why did you break up with Ginevra?”

There was something in the heated look Draco cast in Harry’s direction, making him take a gamble and a chance to trust Draco. 

“It was mutual and amicable,” Harry explained. “When it came down to it, we both realized that I wanted something she couldn’t give me.”

Understanding appeared to cross Draco’s features. “And that was…”

Contemplating how much of the truth to divulge, Harry settled on, “I’m not sure, but I think I’m figuring it out.”

Draco accepted the cryptic explanation with a half-smile and nod.

Harry studied his companion’s sharp, yet delicate, features as the pair sat in silence, at an apparent loss of anything else to discuss. He’d been in Draco’s presence before, but never this close, for this long, or this alone just the two of them, until now. His platinum blonde hair was longer and looser than it had been in school -- wisps of it fell across his forehead and into his silver eyes. Those eyes looked like they had been carved out of steel by a blacksmith. They certainly saw right through Harry and his flimsy excuse to join Draco and attempt conversation.

He watched Draco’s long, nimble fingers slowly rotate his empty tumbler. Harry’s brain was turning just as slowly thinking of any excuse for this night to last as long as possible.

“Do you ever think about how obsessed we were with each other when we were in school?” Draco shocked Harry with his sudden question.

Truth be told, Harry thought about it a lot, though he kept it to himself these days -- long ago had his friends' patience waned in regards to his desire to discuss anything Malfoy-related.

“Yeah, I suppose we sorta were,” he admitted.

Draco’s eyes glowed and licked his lips. “Do you ever wonder why?”

Yes. The answer was a resounding  _ yes _ . He’d wondered  _ why  _ so often, long before the break-up with Ginny.

“Um,” he shrugged, “I dunno. I mean, we were just sorta dumb kids. Weren’t we?”

His Gryffindor courage seemed to have taken a vacation at the most inopportune time. What happened to the confidence that brought him to Draco’s table in the first place? Why was he acting like an awkward first year instead of saying what he wanted?

“You know, I should probably get going. I do still have to work tomorrow,” Harry said with a laugh.

_ Coward _ , he scolded himself.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, “I don’t have to work, but I should go too. Walk with you if you want?”

Harry’s heart leapt at the offer. 

Not only did Draco  _ not  _ turn him away when he appeared uninvited at his table, but he also willingly engaged him in conversation. They had more in common than Harry realized or could have hoped for. Perhaps his bravery would resurface when they weren’t in a crowded pub.

The pair left their empty drink glasses on the table and ambled toward the exit. Harry noticed a few heads turn and follow them on their way out. Lips will wag -- oh well.

Draco pointed to the left. “I’m this way.”

“I’m that way too,” Harry lied. He needed to go in the opposite direction but wanted more time with the man.

They strolled along the sidewalk at a casual, quiet pace.

“I’m really glad I ran into you,” Harry said to break the silence.

“Really? Why?” 

“Why?” Harry repeated Draco’s question back to him in a stall for time. “Well, it’s always nice to see a familiar face and enjoy their company over good drinks and conversation. We seem to have more in common than we used to.”

Draco stopped.

Harry walked a couple of paces before he noticed Draco was no longer beside him -- he turned.

“What is something we have in common?” Draco asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

Taking a step back toward Draco, Harry said, “Well, we’re both recently single.”

He took another step. “Because we decided to take control of our own lives instead of allowing it to be dictated outside of our control.”

The final step brought him chest to chest with Draco. “And we both seemed to have had an unhealthy obsession with the actions of the other for seven years.”

Draco’s eyes flicked down to Harry’s lips and his mouth parted.

Slowly they inched closer, drawn together as by some unseen force.

Harry’s heart beat wildly in his chest; he was sure Draco could feel it.

Then the distance between them became no distance at all and their lips met in a soft, tentative brush. Both men paused, waiting for some sort of confirmation. Harry held his breath and closed his eyes, then went back for another kiss, this time with purpose.

To his shock, Draco met his lips with a fervour of his own.

Before Harry had any real time to process what was happening, Draco’s hands were exploring all over him, and he was doing the same to Draco.

After almost a decade of built-up tension, this was happening and it felt like a surreal out of body experience that Harry never wanted to end.

_ Present Day _

A knock at his office door pulled Harry from his memories, and he shook his head to clear it of the night that changed everything. Harry was not certain if the change was for the better or worse. He knew it was responsible for this new path and direction his life had taken so that must account for something.

All things considered, he should have told Draco about his new job -- strange it had slipped his mind after everything which transpired in the past year. Making a mental note to owl Draco later, he went to the door and opened it.

There stood Hermione, an enormous grin plastered to her face.

“Harry!” she squealed, squeezing him in a vice-like hug. “I’m so excited you’re here!”

“Hey, Hermione!” Harry choked out through the loss of oxygen in his lungs. “Come in!”

Hermione looked around at the partially unpacked boxes. “Want some help with these?”

Harry rubbed his sore ribs and welcomed her offer. Between the two of them, everything was unpacked and put away in next to no time. While they worked, Harry described some of his lesson plan ideas. Hermione was an enthusiastic audience, and keen to offer her thoughts and suggestions.

A little while later, they were startled by a silver cat Patronus that sailed into the room, landed on the floor, opened its mouth, and in Minerva McGonagall’s voice said, “Staff meeting in the staffroom in fifteen minutes,” before slowly dissolving.

Not wishing to be late to his first-ever staff meeting, Harry suggested leaving right away. Together they wandered down a floor to the staffroom, reaching the large wooden door flanked by two stone gargoyles.

“Hold up there, Sonny Jim!” the one on the right said to Harry.

“Aren’t you a little old for detention?” the one on the left added.

Both gargoyles snickered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled open the door. “Ignore them.”

Harry followed her into the long, wood-panelled room and the first thing he saw nearly gave him a heart attack. Leaned against the fireplace mantle on the opposite wall, in conversation with Professor Flitwick and looking more gorgeous than ever, was Draco-sodding-Malfoy.

Draco glanced toward the door when it opened and directed a sly grin and wink toward Harry before turning his attention back to Flitwick.

Heart thudding in his throat, Harry attempted to act normal -- as if seeing Draco didn’t set his entire body aflame -- and followed Hermione to join Neville on a worn, outdated sofa. 

_ Why didn’t Hermione mention Draco was a professor, too? _ he wondered, sitting down between Neville and Hermione.  _ Ok, just...don’t look at him and everything will be fine. _

Not looking in Draco’s direction proved easier than expected due to the succession of other professors welcoming Harry back to the castle. It felt reminiscent of his first trip to Diagon Alley when he was eleven.

All of the staff seemed to be assembled and mingling around -- some standing, others seated in dark wooden chairs around the table in the centre of the room -- when McGonagall and Hooch breezed into the room.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Minerva said crisply. “This meeting is to announce the destination for the yearly staff holiday.”

The older staff members -- Flitwick, Hagrid, Trelawney, Sinistra, and Vector -- exchanged slight grimaces at this announcement. Harry wondered what could be so bad about a short holiday getaway before the start of term.

“For our newer staff,” she gestured at Neville, Hermione, Draco, and Harry, “you should know this is a long-standing tradition started by Albus Dumbledore, and despite some objections,” she cast a critical eye toward the older staff members, “I will not be the one to break this tradition.

“We will visit Dubrovnik, Croatia -- leave tomorrow, come back Monday -- then have five days to get ready for students' arrival on Sunday. Now, after the feedback I have received the past few years,” she frowned, “I have planned in downtime to do as you wish. Here are your itineraries.” 

She plopped a stack of parchments on the table and they were passed around. Harry received his and flipped through the ten parchment document without reading anything. 

_ Surely she wasn’t serious...this is an itinerary for a three-day, two-night trip?! _

Glancing to his left and right, he saw Hermione and Neville eagerly reading the cover page. He looked up and caught Draco’s eye, which was a mistake because it made his palms sweaty.

McGonagall began going over the detailed itinerary, but Harry was no longer listening. The shock of suddenly seeing Draco without any warning drummed up some memories.

_ Flashback -- Six months ago _

Neville owled Harry with exciting news -- Professor Sprout was retiring and McGonagall asked him to take up the post of Herbology professor. He had enthusiastically accepted and wanted to go out to celebrate.

They agreed to meet at a new Muggle club. Harry arrived early and sipped a Belgian ale at the bar while waiting for Neville. He watched the people on the dance floor with mild interest -- women in short dresses and men in well-cut shirts moving and grinding to the thudding bass. The music must have been very loud out there but where Harry sat it was tolerable. 

Someone tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see Neville grinning broadly.

“Hey, man!” Harry stood to shake Neville’s hand. “Congratulations on the new job. That’s brilliant!”

“Thanks!” He leaned against the bar next to Harry and ordered an Old-Fashioned. “Did you know Hermione has taken over Transfiguration for McGonagall so she can focus on Headmistress duties?”

Harry nodded. Hermione mentioned that a few weeks back. 

“It’ll be like Hogwarts days, but we’ll be the professors.” Neville laughed. “So, what’s new with you?”

“Well…” He tapped the bar with his fingertips. “...you knew about Gin and me, right?”

A line etched between Neville’s brows. “Yeah, I heard about that. Sorry it didn’t work out between you two -- you seemed really happy.”

“Looks aren’t everything.” Harry took a long swig of his ale. “On the outside, we may have looked great, but in the end, we weren’t the right ones for each other. We’re still friends though.”

“That’s good.” Neville nodded, then squinted over Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that Pansy and Draco?”

Harry whipped around. Sure enough, the blonde Slytherin he had snogged outside the Leaky Cauldron six months ago, and then hadn’t spoken to since, was sitting at a high-top with Pansy Parkinson.

“Pansy’s looking good,” Neville commented.

If Pansy looked good, then Harry didn’t notice. He was distracted by Draco’s delectable, pale chest, peeking out of the fitted, black button-down with the top two buttons undone. Not to mention the way -- even from across the club -- Draco’s eyes gleamed with a fiery intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

Neville drained his drink. “Harry, I’m going to go dance,” he said absently, then wandered onto the dance floor.

Great -- Neville had left him alone  _ and  _ Malfoy was here. What could go wrong?

Harry held his empty glass up for the bartender to see. When he turned back around, the space Neville had vacated moments before was now filled with Draco’s perfect body.

“Eh, hey,” Harry thickly swallowed, 

“Hello,” Draco smirked.

“So… how have you been since, um…”

Draco placed his palm on Harry’s knee. “Since you snogged me silly on the sidewalk and then didn’t owl me or anything?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Right… that…”

“Harry, calm down. I can see you sweating.” Draco softly caressed Harry’s knee with his fingertips. “I kissed you back, for the record.”

That admission would have helped Harry’s nerves except Draco’s hand moved a little further up his thigh.

“What brings you out to a Muggle club anyway, Potter?”

“Neville got a new job so we came out to celebrate. Except now he seems to be dancing.” Harry searched for Neville on the dance floor. “Oh, my… with Pansy Parkinson…”

“Oh, yeah. Pansy abandoned me when she saw Neville.” Draco laughed. “We were out celebrating my new job, coincidentally.”

Harry drew his eyes away from the dance floor. He peered into his new glass of ale and sighed -- all his friends seemed to be getting exciting new jobs they were passionate about.

Draco raised his hand from Harry’s thigh to cup his chin. “You ok?”

“Yeah, just thinking… I… I don’t like being an Auror as much as I thought I would, and seeing -- Hermione, Neville… you -- you all seem to be passionate about your jobs. I wish I felt that way.”

What was it about Draco that made Harry drop his barriers and spill everything about his discontented personal life? Last time Ginny, this time his job...maybe alcohol played a role. Maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol.

“If you don’t like it, then why do it?” Draco’s hand found its way back to Harry’s thigh. The warmth of his palm burned through the thin fabric, heating more than just Harry’s leg.

He continued, “You killed the Dark Lord -- you could  _ literally  _ walk into any establishment and they would hire you. I changed careers because I wanted to do something on my own for once, without my father’s help or influence. It’s going to be different and unexpected, but it’s mine. You need something like that.”

Throughout this pep talk, Draco had leaned closer into Harry’s space without him noticing or minding.

“You know,” he added in an undertone, “It’s kinda loud in here, and I don’t really feel like dancing. Want to get out of here?”

“What about Pansy and Neville?” Harry remarked.

They looked at the pair on the dance floor. In the strobing lights, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

“I think they forgot about us.” Draco laughed. “And if I know Pansy, then Neville won’t notice or mind you leaving. Come on.” He grabbed Harry’s hand and led him out of the loud club.

They walked out of the club and down the loud, busy sidewalk. Draco led the way to a small alcove outside a bookshop and pulled Harry in after him. Then he held him close and kissed him gently.

The sound of traffic and pedestrians faded away. Harry forgot where he was or what was going on around him as he slid a hesitant tongue along the seam of Draco’s mouth.

Opening eagerly for him, Draco met Harry’s tongue with his own, sliding and exploring with delicate flicks.

Harry could not control the needy moan that escaped his lips. He pressed his body against Draco’s, relishing the friction against his growing hardness.

Draco trailed slow, languid kisses from Harry’s mouth to his jaw, and down his neck -- licking, sucking, and nibbling here and there.

Tilting his head back, Harry lost himself in the sensation of Draco’s warm lips, breath, and body setting his flesh on fire. 

_ Present Day _

Hearing his name pulled him out of the memory.

“Harry and Draco will take Room 1 with a king bed and pull-out sofa.” McGonagall had reached the rooming assignments part of the trip.

_ What?! _

Harry flashed a glance at a smirking Draco, then hastily flipped through the itinerary. He and Draco were staying at a villa with Hermione, Neville, McGonagall, Hooch, and Flitwick. The rest of the staff were staying in a second house down the beach.

McGonagall scrutinized Harry and Draco over her spectacles. “That won’t be a problem. Right, gentlemen?” It was more a statement than a question.

“No problem, Minnie.” Draco smiled.

At the pet name, McGonagall fixed Draco with a rigid stare so stern it would have wilted a first year.

The wheels in Harry’s brain stopped spinning, processing what it would mean to share a room with Draco for two nights. But before he had adequate time to deal with this new revelation, McGonagall dismissed them all and Harry trudged back to his office.

* * *

He perched on the edge of his desk in contemplation. Draco had mentioned a new job months ago, but he never elaborated on what it was and Harry never asked, assuming it to be something financial or entrepreneurial in nature. Taking up the role of Potions professor after Horace Slughorn retired was the last thing Harry expected.

Then another startling thought crossed his mind: if he and Draco were now colleagues, then this weird not-dating-but-sorta-seeing-each-other-on-occasion thing couldn’t continue… could it? 

Harry never had much self-control when it came to Draco, even when they were students as Draco pointed out a year ago. The events since then only proved his point.

_ Flashback -- Four months ago _

Slouching at his Auror’s desk, Harry eyed the stack of paperwork as if it had done something to personally offend him. When did he begin to dread his job? The fieldwork wasn’t terrible -- adrenaline-fueled, sure -- but he had enough close calls and near-death experiences from the age of eleven through eighteen to last a lifetime.

He leaned back with a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead. Maybe Draco had been right at that Muggle club a couple of months ago. If he didn’t like his job anymore, then why do it? According to Draco, he could get a job anywhere he desired...but what did he want to do?

Quidditch? It had been a few years since he had played, but not for nothing had he been the youngest Hogwarts player in a century. Harry wondered if Ginny could set him up with some contacts, assuming a team would take him.

A loud knock at his office door pulled his thoughts back to his current job and the predicament of his unfinished paperwork.

“Come in!” Harry called.

His boss, Gawain Robards, head of the Auror Office entered.

Harry stood, smoothing his hair and robes out of nervous habit, and said, “Hi, Mr Robards. Wasn’t expecting to see you. Have a seat.” Harry gestured to the wooden chairs in front of his desk.

Robards offered him a genial smile and shook his hand, then made himself comfortable in a chair opposite Harry.

“Don’t want to get too far behind on that,” he pointed at the stack of paperwork. “One time when I was a field agent I had to stay in for a whole week to get caught up. Never seen my superior more annoyed.” His eyes sparkled with fondness at the memory.

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, I suppose it has sort of… piled up a bit. I’ll get it done. Sorry, Sir.”

“Harry, Harry.” Robards waved his hand dismissively. “I didn’t come here to lecture you on your job. I came with news… and an offer that I hope you will accept.”

_ News? And an offer? _ Harry remained silent and waited for him to continue.

Crossing his legs and steepling his fingers in front of his chest, Robards disclosed, “I am retiring, effective next month. I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to be able to spend more time with the missus and our grandkids.” He raised an eyebrow. “My job is yours if you want it. Already talked to Minister Shacklebolt about it and he agrees, no one better suited for the job.”

The air was sucked out of Harry’s lungs.

Is this what his life had built to? Head of the Auror Office? What was next? Head of DMLE?

Sixty seconds ago he was contemplating a career change. He didn’t even like being an Auror anymore. Did he really want to be in charge of the Division?

_ No. _ The honest answer was a resounding NO. Definitely not.

“Um… Sir, I’m very flattered that you and the Minister have that level of confidence in me and my abilities. But I’m… I’m afraid I have to decline.”

Robards’ face fell at that announcement. “I see… that is very disappointing indeed.”

“Yeah, I just,” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I’m the right person  _ right now _ . There are Aurors with more seniority than me, and I wouldn’t feel right accepting such an honour over them.”

It was a lie -- Harry knew -- but that didn’t mean Robards needed to know.

“Well, I can respect that. Thank you for even considering it, Mr Potter.” Robards stood and shook Harry’s hand again. “For the record, I still think you would be a fantastic replacement.” He winked and let himself out.

Harry let out a long breath, sank back into his chair, and rubbed his forehead.  _ That was close _ , he thought. 

The clock on the wall read 4:45 -- close enough to time to leave...and he needed a drink. Harry sent an owl to Draco asking him to meet at the Leaky, then left the Ministry for the day.

* * *

He ordered a house lager for himself, then found a small, round table in a secluded corner of the pub to wait and see if Draco would show.

Within thirty minutes, a blonde head appeared at the door and looked around. Harry stood and waved to get his attention. Draco nodded, went to the bar, and sauntered over with a tumbler of firewhisky.

Instead of taking the seat across from him, as Harry expected, Draco sat in the chair to his right. He crossed his legs in Harry’s direction and studied him over his glass as he sipped.

“So what’s up?” Draco asked. “Your letter said you had news but did not elaborate.”

Harry finished off the last half of his lager in one go and set it on the table with a sigh. “I got offered the Head of Auror Division today.”

“That’s quite the promotion.”

“I turned it down.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. He scooted his chair closer, put one arm on the back of Harry’s chair, and in a hushed voice asked, “Why?”

“I’ve already told you I don’t like my job. Why would I want to be in charge of the entire division?” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

He felt a finger tracing lazy circles along his thigh.

“So quit,” Draco suggested.

Harry opened one eye to peer at Draco.

“Quit? Quit my job?”

Draco shrugged, and his finger traced further up Harry’s leg.

The feather-light touch sent small jolts to his groin, causing it to twitch within the confines of his trousers.

“You’ve told me more than once now that you don’t like your job,” Draco murmured. “If you don’t like it, then you should quit.”

Then Draco did something that made both of Harry’s eyes pop open and dart around the half-full pub.

“Draco!” he hissed. “Wh-what are you-ahh…”

The hand found it’s destination, which was Harry’s semi-hard erection, already straining at the seams.

“You can tell me to stop, and I will stop.” Draco gave the shaft a small squeeze.

“Don’t… don’t stop.” Harry pressed his pelvis forward.

Focus on the prior conversation became all but impossible as Draco’s hand rubbed Harry’s hardening cock through the thin fabric.

“You still haven’t explained why you shouldn’t quit your job.”

“Um… ah… people have expectations of me…” Harry managed to choke out.

“Fuck people and their expectations,” Draco drawled. “You broke up with Ginny despite people and their expectations, right? You’re sitting here in this pub with me. No one would expect that, right?”

He leaned closer and whispered in Harry’s ear, “No one would expect you’re letting me rub you off under this table.”

Harry gasped. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and bit his knuckles.

“Such a small table,” Draco breathed. “In such a crowded pub.”

The pressure and force from the hand increased. Harry coughed to cover the groan dying to escape his lips. Between Draco’s husky voice in his ear, warm breath on his neck, and --  _ Oh, Godric _ \-- palm on his aching cock, Harry was going to come faster than a Snitch at the World Cup.

Harry was thankful he had chosen the most secluded table, because with a grunt and a thrust, Draco made him come right there. 

“You’re too smart and talented to waste your time doing something you don’t enjoy,” Draco said.

_ Present Day _

Another knock on his office door pulled him out of the fateful memory. This time, the erection that started in the staff meeting was back, but in full force. He rearranged his robes to cover his hard problem and opened the door. A smirking Draco, leaning against the door frame, greeted him.

Harry gasped in surprise and took a step back.

Stepping over the threshold, Draco let himself in without an invitation and looked around the room with apparent interest. 

Pulling himself out of his shock, Harry shut the door and rested his shoulder against it, trying his best to disguise his now aching arousal. Crossing his arms across his chest, he asked, “Why didn’t you say your new job was Potions professor?”

Draco spun from perusing Harry’s bookshelf. “ _ You _ didn’t ask. Who do you think recommended you for the post?”

“I… well… I mean… ” Harry stuttered. “It could have been Hermione or Neville…”

Rolling his eyes, Draco scoffed and moved to stand directly in front of him.

Harry pressed his back flat against the door. He did not trust his self-control while this close to Draco.

“Okay… so it was you then… apparently,” Harry said. “Why? When?”

Placing his palms on the door to either side of Harry’s head, Draco answered, “When? The day after you told me you quit the Aurors. Minnie was worried she wasn’t going to find anyone. And why? I already told you that I think you’re smart and talented...” His eyes raked down Harry’s body, resting hungrily on the erection he was no longer able to hide. “... in many ways.”

He took another predatory step toward Harry. Their bodies were close now, though still not touching; they were practically breathing each other’s air.

Harry swallowed, self-restraint waning. “Draco, we can’t keep doing -- this, whatever it is -- if we’re working together.”

Draco bent his head down and laughed into Harry's shoulder. “You think professors never hook up?” He planted a light kiss to the side of Harry’s neck. “You were in that staff meeting. Didn't you notice Minnie and Hooch are sharing a room? Think that’s a coincidence?”

He may have been in the meeting, but Harry did not hear a thing outside of him sharing a room with a man he found irresistible. A man who currently had him trapped and forgetting how to think in his new office.

Closing the distance between them with a final step forward, something stiff pressed into Harry’s thigh. Draco closed his eyes and groaned, “You feel what you do to me?”

A tingle ricocheted around Harry’s body. “Kiss me, you prat,” he breathlessly demanded.

Closing the millimetre distance between their lips in no time, Draco pinned Harry up against the door with surprising force and captured his mouth in a fierce, fiery kiss that was all teeth and tongues. He pulled back, sucking on Harry’s bottom lip, then gave it a playful nibble before skimming his tongue along the tender area.

Harry tumbled over the edge of control. Kissing and grabbing every inch of Draco within reach, he pushed them away from the door and toward his bed. They rammed the desk off-kilter and stumbled over empty moving boxes littered across the floor. Buttons were ripped and clothing strewn about as they clumsily made their way through the antechamber to Harry’s sleeping quarters. A trail of discarded clothes -- robes, jumpers, shoes, trousers, socks, vests, pants -- were left in their wake.

Draco’s bare calves met the side of the bed. With a firm nudge, Harry pushed his palms against Draco’s chest. Knees collapsing, Draco tumbled backwards but caught himself with his elbows.

Hand absent-mindedly stroking his cock, Harry paused to admire the luscious, naked Draco adorning his bed. From the top of his mussed up hair… to his angular face, hungry eyes, and parted mouth… down his elegant, lithe neck… across his exquisite, sculpted chest and abs crisscrossed with scars (a pang of remorse beat through Harry)... although faded, the Mark still stood in contrast to his pale forearm… dripping, rigid, twitching cock… long, graceful legs… all the way down to his elegant feet planted flat on the hardwood floor.

_ Beautiful. _

“You’re beautiful, Draco,” Harry breathed.

He stepped to the bed, leaving his right foot on the floor between Draco’s legs and lifting the other knee onto the bed. Harry set his left hand on the mattress next to Draco’s head and traced the scars on Draco’s chest lightly with the fingertips of his right.

Silver-grey eyes followed the path of Harry’s hand. “Some idiot did that by accident.”

Harry’s hand froze and his eyes darted to Draco’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in earnest.

Draco stroked Harry’s left cheek. “I forgave you a long time ago, idiot.”

Turning his head, Harry planted gentle, open-mouth kisses along the back of Draco’s knuckles. He licked long, slow strokes along the length of Draco’s index finger, then sucked it into his mouth.

Their bodies radiated heat and desire. Draco’s breathing hitched, he let out a soft gasp and thrust his pelvis up. The tip of his cock rubbed against Harry’s thigh, leaving a trail of precum.

Not enough of their bodies were touching, Harry decided. He slid his arm under Draco’s upper back and hoisted him up further onto the bed. Lying alongside him, kissing and nipping Draco’s neck and throat, Harry basked in the feeling of flesh on flesh.

Draco arched his back at Harry’s ministrations. The mewl that escaped his lips went straight to Harry’s throbbing cock.

Passion like he had never felt before burned through Harry to his core -- he wanted Draco, now.

Pulling back, he confessed, “Um, Draco? I’ve never… um… with a man that is…”

Draco held Harry’s face in his hands, planting a soft kiss on Harry’s lips, followed by his cheek, then licked the shell of his ear. “You want to fuck me?”

Harry nodded. “Merlin, yes!”

“Do you have lube?”

Rolling over to the nightstand, Harry pulled lube out of the drawer.

“I did a cleansing spell before I came over, just in case.” Draco grinned and lay back onto the pillows. “Come here with the lube.”

Harry did.

“Take some lube,” Draco spread his lifted legs, holding them with his hands to give full access to Harry, “and slowly start adding fingers.”

Harry was nervous but also excited. It was a very strange combination of emotions seeing Draco spread out so pretty before him, cock dripping precum onto his smooth abdomen.

Doing as Draco instructed, Harry pressed his middle finger past the tight ring of muscles. He curled his finger up, and Draco groaned, eyes and head rolling back. Taking that as a good sign, Harry slowly moved his finger in and out of Draco’s tight hole.

“Ok, now the second one,” Draco said.

Harry slipped his index finger in with the middle one, meeting little resistance. He tried scissoring his fingers and Draco seemed to  _ really  _ like that.

Watching Draco squirm under him with two fingers in his arse was turning Harry on more than anything he could remember. His cock felt so hard it might burst.

“Add… another… finger,” Draco panted.

Harry slowly squeezed in a third finger.

At the added dimension, Draco arched his back off the bed and groaned.

Slowly increasing the speed moving his fingers in and out, and rotating them left and right, Harry stroked his own cock along the way.

Writhing and moaning under him, Draco rocked his hips, matching Harry’s tempo. “Unless you want me to come before you even stick your cock in me, then I think I’m ready.”

_ Oops _ , Harry thought. He had been so caught up in the lovely show that he forgot he was part of it too.

Draco’s body had been so responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to see how he would react to Harry's cock up his tight arse.

Withdrawing his fingers, Harry put some lube on his cock, and lined up his tip with Draco’s eager hole.

“Wait,” Draco suddenly said.

“What?” Harry froze, afraid he had done something wrong.

He cast a nonverbal, wandless spell aimed at the door. “Silencing charm,” Draco explained. Then another over himself and one over Harry. “And a Safe Sex spell.”

A ghost of a flutter feathered over Harry’s cock.

Draco gazed deep into Harry’s eyes and said, “Do it.”

Harry took a deep breath, and inch by blissful inch, he slid his cock past the tight ring of Draco’s arsehole. Fully sheathed, he let out the breath and closed his eyes. Never in his goddamn life had he felt something so tight, so warm, so fucking  _ good _ . He gathered his wits, willing himself not to come right then and there like a ruddy teen.

“Are you going to fuck me at some point?” Draco drawled.

Harry opened his eyes. Draco wanted a fuck, that’s exactly what Harry would give him. He moved out slowly, then slammed back to the hilt.

Draco arched his back and groaned in delight.

Repeating the out slow-in fast movement, Harry watched Draco in ecstasy, each time drawing a louder response. Then he had an idea.

Pulling out, he patted the outside of Draco’s thigh and said, “Get up.”

Draco raised a brow but did as Harry instructed.

Harry lay down where Draco had been. “Ride me.”

“With pleasure,” Draco said with a euphoric smile.

He straddled Harry and slid down his cock.

“Ugh, gods,” Harry cried. “How are you still so fucking tight?” Draco’s walls were pressing in on his cock from all sides.

Leveraging on his knees, hands back on Harry’s legs, Draco moved up and down controlling the pace. His cock bounced and swayed, and was a tantalizing sight to behold.

Harry placed his hands around Draco’s waist and lifted his hips.

Draco gasped, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. It was the most beautiful, glorious sight Harry had ever seen and he never wanted to stop making Draco look like that.

They matched each other's brutal pace, sweating and grunting until Harry reached his peak.

“Draco, I’m...I’m gonna come,” Harry said with a cry.

“Come for me, Harry. Fill my arse with your come.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. A few more thrusts and he came with a loud, feral groan.

Pumping his cock in his hand, Draco watched Harry come undone under him. Soon he followed Harry over the edge.

Leaning forward to catch his breath, Draco looked into Harry’s eyes. “Fuck, Potter.”

“I think that’s what I just did, Malfoy,” he quipped.

Draco laughed, pulling off Harry’s cock, then collapsed on the bed next to him. “First time with a bloke, huh?”

A giddy chuckle escaped Harry’s mouth. “Yeah.”

Then Draco did something Harry wouldn’t have suspected. He curled up into Harry’s side, lay his head on Harry’s shoulder, and threw an arm across Harry’s chest.

Despite being unexpected, the snuggle was not unwelcome, and Harry wrapped his arm around Draco’s shoulders, revelling in the afterglow of genuinely fantastic sex.

* * *

The pair fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms. Some hours later, Draco nudged Harry awake. Through bleary eyes, Harry saw he was dressed again.

He placed a chaste kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Don’t forget to pack,” Draco reminded him, then sauntered out the door and back to his own quarters.

Harry went to the ensuite then returned to bed. His nostrils filled with the smell of Draco and sex: sandalwood, vanilla, and musk. He wrapped the sheets around him and breathed deep, replaying the finer points of the evening in his mind until fell fast asleep.

* * *

**Saturday**

Harry awoke with a start, realizing he had forgotten to pack the night before. In haste, he grabbed the special backpack with an undetectable extension charm McGonagall had given them all at the staff meeting and threw a couple sets of clean clothes inside. Then he pulled on comfy blue jeans, a grey henley tee, and black trainers. 

Taking a peek at his reflection, he ruffled his fingers through his hair -- it still stuck out as bad as it ever did -- and headed down to the great hall where they were all meeting.

He was the last to arrive and it appeared the majority of the staff had gone for a casual Muggle look just as he had. All except Draco, of course. Even when going on vacation, apparently the man didn’t own anything except dress trousers and oxford shirts. Today was a classic pairing of black bottoms and a Slytherin-green top.

_ How? How did he always look impeccable? Even the morning after a shag? _

“Nice of you to finally join us, Harry,” Minerva said with a crispness that cut through his early morning stupor. “Now that we are all here,” she continued, “we can floo to the Ministry.”

One by one, the professors took turns throwing powder into the fireplace and disappearing in green flames.

Hermione nudged Harry in the side. “Why were you so late this morning? I thought Minerva was going to have kittens.”

“Eh, I overslept and forgot to pack last night,” Harry said.

“How did you forget to pack? The meeting didn’t last that long.”

The last thing Harry wanted to admit to Hermione this morning was the weird-not-relationship-thing in which he found himself entwined with Draco. Not to mention that it had culminated last night with possibly the best sex of his life. He couldn’t explain it adequately to himself and there was  _ no way  _ he could find the words to explain it to her right now. So he offered her a non-committal shrug, hoping she would interpret it as Harry-being-Harry. Luckily she did not push the issue further because it was her turn at the fireplace.

After Hermione, it was Harry’s turn. He pinched some floo powder from the jar McGonagall was holding, threw it into the fireplace and called, “Ministry of Magic!”

Harry held his elbows at his sides and closed his eyes to fight off the spinning nausea until he came to the Ministry grate. Landing with a thud, he stumbled out of the fireplace and dusted soot off himself.

Once everyone had come through, the group made their way to the lifts and the Portkey Office in the Department of Magical Transportation on Level Six.

It was strange being back at the Ministry. After spending every workday here for many years, he had not stepped foot in the building since he quit the Aurors two months ago. The once familiar stone and marble building now seemed strange and foreign to him. Draco caught his eye, the catalyst for his change of career.

_ Flashback - Two months ago _

> _ Draco, _
> 
> _ I did it! I quit my job! I feel so… free. We should celebrate. _
> 
> _ H. _

> _ Harry, _
> 
> _ I know a great restaurant -- Black Vines -- meet me on the north side of Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square in an hour and we’ll walk there together. _
> 
> _ D. _

Leave it to Draco to arrange a meeting in the busiest Muggle square in London; the nearest designated apparition area was over a half-mile away. Harry apparated there, after changing out of his work robes at home. He cautiously stepped out of the bushes and onto the sidewalk of Charing Cross Road, allowing the bustle of pedestrians to sweep him toward Trafalgar.

Hanging a right at The National Gallery, and bounding down the stairs toward the fountains, Harry caught sight of Draco leaning against the Nelson Column and his breath hitched. Even from a couple hundred feet away, Draco looked resplendent with the fading sun reflecting off his platinum blonde hair.

He neared where Draco stood, looking cool in cuffed black skinny jeans, probably too expensive black loafers, white V-Neck tee, and a charcoal grey cardigan. 

Draco watched him approach, mouth curving into a smile.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving,” admitted Harry.

“Come on then.” Draco jerked his head and held out his hand. “It’s just around the corner.”

Harry stared at the offered hand for a moment before tentatively taking it in his own. Draco’s hand grasped his with intention, and they walked hand-in-hand to the restaurant.

* * *

The hostess chatted and laughed with Draco, as they waited for their table, like they were old friends. She led them to a two-top table in the middle of the dining room which contained a small votive candle, casual place settings, and no menus. Harry wondered what kind of restaurant this was.

As if reading his mind, Draco said, “This place doesn’t have a set menu. It changes daily, and everyone gets the same thing. The chef takes inspiration from cuisines all around the globe.”

_ Quite unconventional _ , Harry thought as he looked around at the crowded dining room.  _ But it must be working for them. Knowing Draco, he probably knows the chef. _

Draco continued, “Blaise Zabini is the head chef. This is his and his Muggle wife’s restaurant -- she’s the hostess.”

_ Muggle? Blaise married a Muggle? _ Harry found this surprising.

Chuckling and leaning forward, he folded his hands casually on top of the table. To his surprise, Draco reached across the table to hold one in his.

“So tell me about quitting your job today.” Draco gently stroked the back of Harry’s hand with his thumb.

“Well…” Harry wracked his brain for the best way to begin.

The soft candlelight highlighted Draco’s sharp features. Between the intense gaze pinning him and the feel of the thumb tracing circles along the back of his hand… Harry found it difficult to form a proper sentence.

Clearing his throat, Harry said, “Ok, I told you about turning down the promotion a few months ago. So…” He took a breath. “... they offered the job to this other guy who’s been with the department for at least fifteen years longer than me and he accepted. Took a while for him to settle into the new role but I think he’ll be a decent Auror Division Head.”

Their waitress appeared, interrupting Harry’s story, with the wine list. Draco snatched it before Harry had a chance to blink. He scanned down the list and selected a bottle of Zinfandel.

“You were saying,” Draco prompted after the waitress had left.

“Anyway,” Harry continued, “so you know I’ve been feeling this whole Auror thing might not have been quite what I was hoping or expecting it to be.”

Draco nodded.

“So, basically, I got to the bottom of my pile of paperwork I’ve been putting off for weeks, looked around my office, and decided I couldn’t do it anymore.” Harry shrugged. “Something you said...”

_ Or did _ , Harry thought.

“... must have stuck with me because I walked into Mr Garner’s office, handed him my two weeks notice, and walked back out.”

“And that’s it? He just let you leave?” Draco gasped.

“Oh, no!” Harry laughed. “I wish it had been that easy, but no.”

The first course and their wine arrived, and Harry had to wait to regale Draco with the rest of his story.

“Tonight’s appetizer course is Asian Salad Wonton Cups,” the waitress said. She placed a plate in front of each of them and poured their first glass of wine.

Angling his head, Harry studied the square, white plate in front of him. Delicate-looking wonton skins formed three cups which were filled to brimming with lettuce, purple cabbage, green onions, and carrots, mixed with an oil dressing. He glanced up at Draco who wasted no time in scooping up his first wonton cup and taking a crunchy bite.

“How is it?” Harry didn’t have much experience with ethnic foods. As with everything he and Malfoy did together, this would be something new.

Draco chewed, swallowed, and looked up in thoughtful contemplation. “Cool… crunchy… and fresh.” Looking back at Harry, he urged, “It’s good. Try it.”

Harry did. It was different… quite tasty… and very crunchy.

“So you were saying how your boss reacted to your resignation,” Draco prompted before popping another wonton cup into his mouth.

“Oh, yeah...so, I handed him my two weeks and he was understandably shocked. Tried all sorts of incentives to get me to stay. He even asked me what I was going to do now.”

Draco stilled. “What  _ are  _ you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “That should probably scare me more than it does. What about you and your mysterious new enterprise? How’s that going?” He took a sip of wine.

“Well, it hasn’t quite started yet. It’s somewhat seasonal. But I’ve had a chance to settle in and get to know my co-workers. I think it’s going to be a really good fit for me.” Draco polished off his last wonton cup and wiped his mouth and fingers with the white dinner napkin.

That sounded like what Harry was looking for; it’s what he expected being an Auror to feel like. He hoped he’d be able to find something new like Draco had.

The main course and dessert came -- Anticucho (skewers of marinated and grilled llama, served with boiled potatoes) and Mocha Pots de Créme (creamy chocolate custard spiked with espresso) respectively -- and went. Harry and Draco chatted idly in the dim candlelight, slowly emptying their bottle of wine. Despite the crowded dining room surrounding them, the chatter from the rest of the patrons never impeded their conversation. Seeing as how Blaise was part owner of the establishment, Harry suspected the tables had some sort of charm to keep the surrounding noise at a minimum.

After finishing the rich dessert, their waitress brought the check. Both Draco and Harry reached for it at the same time and shared a silent look for a moment.

“Harry,” Draco said drawled, “as you find yourself suddenly unemployed, and  _ I  _ asked  _ you  _ out, I feel a certain obligation to pay for dinner.”

Acquiescing, Harry let go of his hold of the check and put his palms up in surrender.

The pair left the dining establishment, full of hearty food and wine, and began walking back toward Trafalgar.

“Thanks for dinner,” Harry said. “You wouldn’t want to… I don’t know… come back to my place?”

Draco stopped walking, slipped his arms around Harry’s waist, and pulled him in for a kiss. “I’d like that,” he mumbled against Harry’s lips.

Harry drew them closer together, running his fingers through Draco’s hair. Then without warning, he turned and apparated them to the hallway outside his flat.

Stumbling into Harry’s chest, Draco muttered. “Could have warned me.”

“More fun this way.” Harry chuckled and unlocked his flat. He took Draco’s hand and led him to the sitting room. “Want anything to drink?”

“I think after all the wine we had at dinner, some water is called for,” Draco said.

Harry nodded and went into the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water. When he returned he found Draco had made himself comfortable on his couch. He looked like a damn tasty treat.

Setting the water glasses down on coasters on the coffee table, Harry joined Draco on the couch. He placed his arm across the back and leaned his mouth next to Draco’s ear. His hands crept along Draco’s thigh, wine and lust egging him on.

“I owe you something for that night at the Leaky,” he whispered.

Draco scooted closer. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, excitement in his voice.

Harry kissed and nipped at Draco’s neck while his hand rubbed and explored the swelling crotch of Draco’s pants.

Still kissing Draco all over, Harry worked to unbutton and unzip Draco’s pants. He had never given a blowjob before, but he had been on the receiving end of enough good and bad ones to have a decent idea of the mechanics behind it.

He slid off the couch to crouch in front of Draco. “Lift up your arse so I can remove these hideously expensive trousers and these equally annoying pants.”

Draco’s pupils were blown with desire, and he nodded breathlessly as he lifted his hips.

Grabbing the waistband on either side of Draco’s trousers, Harry yanked them down, pants and all. Draco’s swollen, leaking cock sprang free and Harry licked his lips. Though he was not in a hurry and felt like torturing Draco just a little bit. It was what the tosser deserved after jerking him off under the table at the Leaky.

Harry watched Draco’s face as he ran the flat side of his tongue tantalizingly slow up the underside of Draco’s cock, from base to precum-soaked tip. Draco let out a gasp and squeezed Harry's shoulder. Oh, yeah… he was going to make this as teasing as possible. 

Reaching the tip he gently sucked it into his mouth and rolled his tongue around, spreading the copious precum. He sucked hard on the head, dashing his tongue back and forth across the frenulum. At sporadic intervals, he would pull off suddenly with a pop. Each time he did this, a louder, more insistent moan would leave Draco’s lips.

Inch by inch, he slowly began to take more and more of Draco’s cock into his mouth. Never had Harry felt more aroused than he did at this moment, knowing that he was responsible for the indecent sounds escaping the man. Draco’s cock tasted and felt so fantastic -- like musk and desire, and… Draco -- it was like Draco’s pure being in one long and hard package.

Harry’s pants had never been tighter. In haste, he undid his trousers and took his own erection in hand, tugged on it like crazy as he teased his lips around Draco’s cock.

Slapping the couch cushions with his palms, Draco groaned in frustration, “Gods, Harry. Are you going to suck me off or just play with it?”

_ Well, he asked for it. _ Harry hungrily took Draco’s full length into his mouth, gagging a little when it nudged the back of his throat.

Draco guffawed at Harry’s gag and buried his hands in Harry’s hair. “Sweet Salazar, yes Harry. Please,” he moaned, thrusting up and meeting Harry’s mouth coming down.

Opening his jaw and relaxing his throat, Harry allowed Draco to fuck his face. He found the feeling of the cock hitting the back of his throat and occasionally cutting off his air supply surprisingly even more arousing.

“Oh, gods. Harry, I’m gonna…” Draco moaned.

The sound and feel of Draco coming, spilling into his mouth, sent Harry over the edge as well -- a mess he would worry about later.

Harry raised from his knees and collapsed on the sofa next to a completely spent Draco.

_ Present Day _

Draco offered him a wink and crooked smile.

Harry felt himself blush and looked away, unable to stop the grin creeping across his face. This would be an interesting vacation.

The group finally wound their way through the labyrinth of the Ministry and found themselves at the window of the Portkey Office. A bored-looking witch -- who looked as though she wished to portkey out of there -- greeted them, serious and unsmiling.

They took the portkey (an old tin can) into Room Fourteen as the Ministry Witch had instructed. At 8:45 A.M. on the dot, the portkey activated.

Moments later Harry found himself sprawled on the floor of the Balkans Ministry in Sofia, Bulgaria. They were subjected to a wand inspection at Magic Border Control, as well as a lot of questions to which Harry was uncertain of the answers. To his relief, Draco appeared and went through Border Control with him, and he  _ did  _ know the answers to the Border Wizards questions such as:

_ How long will you be staying? _

_ What is your reason for visiting? _

_ Where are you staying? _

Without Draco, Harry felt certain he would have been arrested by security. Perhaps if he had paid more attention at the staff meeting he would have been able to make it through on his own. All the same, he was thankful for Draco’s knowledge.

After the interrogation at Border Control, the group found their way to the Balkan Ministry Portkey Office for their final portkey (this time a used kettle) to Dubrovnik.

* * *

The kettle dropped them at the abandoned Hotel Belvedere. It was a popular destination for Muggle tourists to the region, but a section was Muggle-protected for portkey and apparating purposes.

After landing and double-checking all members of their party were present and accounted for, the group made their way to the back exit and headed toward the first of two Wizard AirBnB’s.

Draco walked at the front of the group, talking with McGonagall and Hooch. Harry watched him with interest from behind, walking next to Hermione and Neville.

Hermione was going on about all the interesting things McGonagall had planned for them and interesting facts about the wizarding culture and the Balkans.

_ She must have read an entire travel book before their trip, _ Harry mused.

Neville followed Hermione’s never-ending lecture and contributed enough to the conversation that Harry only had to offer nods and sounds of agreement.

After ten minutes, they reached the beach house in which Hagrid, Trelawney, Sinistra, and the Muggle Studies professor would stay. The second group waved goodbye to the first and continued their walk to their villa.

During this segment of the walk, Harry remembered the important question he needed to ask Hermione and Neville.

“Hey,” he said. “Why didn’t either of you tell me Draco was Potions professor?”

“I think he was hired around the same time as me and I didn’t know when I accepted the job,” said Neville.

Hermione furrowed her brow. “Does it matter? You two don’t still have that unexplainable hatred/rivalry nonsense towards each other, do you? We are all adults now, you know.”

“Yeah… I mean, you’re right Hermione. We’re all adults and Draco and I get along better than we did as kids.”

_ So much for getting an answer there. _

Ten minutes after leaving the beach house, the second group arrived at the villa. It was massive and beautiful and appeared to be built from limestone with a terra cotta roof. Harry thought he could see a balcony on the second floor which probably offered a gorgeous view of the city and the bay.

McGonagall opened the front door, announcing they all had about an hour to relax and unpack before they needed to leave for the walking tour.

Draco and Harry found their bedroom; it was the only room on the topmost floor. They walked through a door and up a flight of stairs that lead straight into an open floor plan room with a golden oak hardwood floor. White-washed wood panels and exposed ceiling joists gave the room a rustic, old-world, homey feel.

Ahead of the stair opening set a small, round, wooden pedestal table holding a fruit bowl with assorted goodies. Two low-back, wooden armchairs flanked the table. They were nestled into a quaint window alcove where long, sheer, light-blue curtains danced in the breeze of the open window.

Walking to the right, across a Persian-inspired, cream-coloured area rug, Harry threw his backpack onto the brown leather tufted sofa. He turned around to find Draco lounging in the king-size bed across the room, munching on a Granny Smith apple.

“So… what will the sleeping arrangements be?” Harry scratched the back of his head.

“What do you mean?” Draco took a crunchy, juicy bite of his apple.

“Well, there’s the bed… and the couch pulls out… ”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, shut up. Neither of us is going to sleep on that idiotic couch and we both know it.”

_ Well, when he put it that way. _ Harry shrugged and turned back around to unpack.

Draco continued munching his apple and watching Harry.

“Are you going to just stare at my ass like it’s a snack, or are you going to unpack your stuff?” Harry laughed.

“I can do both.” Draco gave his wand a wave and his backpack unpacked itself, sending items zooming throughout the room.

“Show off,” Harry muttered.

“Want me to do yours, too?” Draco grinned.

“If you did that, then you wouldn’t get to watch me anymore.”

“No, but it’d get you in this bed faster.”

He did have a point. Harry pulled his wand out, gave it a flick, and his packed items also put themselves away, though perhaps not as neatly as Draco’s had.  _ Good enough. _

Jumping onto the dark brown duvet on the bed, Harry faced Draco and asked, “Now that you’ve got me here, what are you going to do with me?”

Draco tossed his apple core over his shoulder and pressed his lips against Harry’s.

Sighing into the now all-too-familiar sensation, Harry realized he had become addicted to the feel of Draco’s soft lips against his own. It was a drug he never wanted to quit. His hands roamed down Draco’s torso, finding a delightful bulge in his trousers.

Groaning as Harry palmed his crotch, Draco thrust his hips, increasing the friction and contact.

With sure hands, Harry unbuttoned and unzipped Draco’s slacks, freeing the growing erection.

He moaned as Harry’s calloused hands rubbed him up and down. Not to be outdone, Draco brushed a kiss along the shell of Harry’s ear and whispered, “I want to watch you wank yourself off.”

Harry’s hand stilled. He pulled back to look Draco in the eye, seeing honest sincerity there.

Draco kissed him softly and growled, “I think it would be hot.”

Not needing to be told twice, Harry shed his jeans and pants in no time. 

Licking his lips, Draco eyed Harry’s throbbing erection. His eyes sparkled when Harry took it in his hand and began to stroke.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” Draco whispered in his ear. “You are so sexy, Harry.”

“Godric, Draco. Keep that up and I really won’t last long,” Harry groaned. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

“I want to watch you come.” Draco licked up the side of Harry’s neck and nibbled on his ear lobe.

A few more panting, frantic strokes, and Harry came with Draco’s name on his lips.

Watching Harry come proved too much for Draco, because he followed soon after, having been wanking himself the whole time.

The pair lay in silence for a couple of minutes, catching their breath.

_ Did that just happen? _ Harry asked himself. He turned his head to look at Draco, who had his eyes closed and looked blissfully happy. Casting a quick cleansing charm on them both, Harry rolled over and rested his head on Draco’s chest.

Draco ran his hand through Harry’s hair, and down his back. “Happy vacation masturbation,” he said with a laugh.

* * *

Harry would have been happy to stay in this room with Draco for the entire trip, but eventually someone would probably notice their absence and start asking questions. He wasn’t sure he was ready to answer awkward questions from anyone, especially not McGonagall or Hermione. Not even sure himself what was happening between him and Draco, he preferred not to have to explain it to anyone yet.

He peeked an eye at the time. “Shit! We need to get going or we’re going to be late for the walking tour!”

“Fuck the walking tour,” Draco said sleepily. “Let’s stay here.”

Sitting up, Harry reasoned, “Someone might get suspicious if we don’t leave this room for two days.”

“So?”

Draco could be a real brat when he wanted to be, but with enough prodding and promises, Harry managed to convince him to get out of bed.

Hermione cast a dubious eye at the pair as they joined the group already all assembled in the living room. Harry attempted a look of innocence as they set out to the start of the walking tour.

* * *

Large Onofrio’s Fountain was the beginning of an enormous walking tour. Harry could barely hear what the tour guide was even saying most of the time.

After about five minutes, he felt a pull on his hand, and Draco was leading them down a random side street.

“What are you doing?” Harry chuckled.

“Exploring on our own sounds more fun,” Draco explained.

“Won’t someone miss us?”

“In that big of a group? Are you serious? No one is going to notice. They’ll be back at the fountain in about an hour, so we’ll just make sure we get back there at the same time.”

They found a pedestrian-only, cobblestone street full of local shoppers coming and going. All of the buildings here seemed to be constructed from limestone, the same as their villa. Small cafes and restaurants had some small outdoor seating available, where people could sit and relax with their friends over a coffee or a pint. A few artists sat at their easels, painting the picturesque scene.

“So are Neville and Pansy a thing now?” Harry asked.

Neville hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details of what happened the night at the club. He also didn’t seem to have noticed or minded that Harry left without a word. Anytime Harry brought it up Neville’s face would go red and he would change the subject.

“I don’t think they’re anything one could call official,” Draco said. “Although Pansy did tell me they’ve hooked up a few times since that night at the club.”

“Wh- what?” Harry sputtered. “A few times? Neville never mentioned.”

“Probably because most Slytherins are a lot more open about their conquests than Gryffindors are.”

Harry felt his face heat.  _ What did that mean? Did that mean Pansy knew about… them? _

“Um… for the record,” Harry started, “I haven’t mentioned… um, that is… no one I know, knows about… anything we’ve… uh…”

“Calm down, Harry. I said  _ most  _ Slytherins, not all. I don’t tell my friends everything about my personal life.”

Before Harry could think more than,  _ that’s a relief _ , Draco yanked on his hand and pulled him down a narrow side street enclosed by limestone residential buildings. The noise from the boisterous main street faded away and Draco pressed Harry back into a stone wall and kissed him deeply.

If any of the residents of these homes were to look out their windows right now, then they would have cat-called or something. It was an intense kiss.

Harry and Draco tangled their hands through the other's hair as if they needed to be closer, even though there was no space to do so. Exploring each other's bodies with their hands, and mouths with their tongues, they stood in the side street until a whistle from a window tore them from their secluded bubble.

The whistle came from a third-story window behind Draco, and they both turned at the sound.

“Da! Uhvati ga, plavuša! Git ‘im, blondie!” a dark-haired woman shouted with a wave, then giggled and shut the window.

Draco turned back to Harry with a smirk. “Oh, I plan to, random stranger.”

The soul-searing snog session nearly made Harry forget that they still needed to get back to the fountain in time for the end of the tour. As it was, they pulled themselves off each other and raced back to the fountain just in time.

They joined the end of the group, out of breath from making out and then rushing here, when Hermione found them.

“Where did you disappear to?” she asked, arms crossing her chest.

“We’ve been here the whole time, Granger,” Draco replied. “Interesting place, Dubrovnik. Can you believe the Old Town remains almost completely unchanged from when construction was finished in the thirteenth century?”

Hermione raised a sceptical brow but did not respond.

* * *

The Hogwarts staff regrouped after the walking tour and headed to lunch at Pub Dubrovnik. (Because that is where McGonagall’s itinerary said they would have lunch.)

“Choosing a random spot for lunch would be crazy insane,” Draco complained under his breath as they were shown to their table.

Draco sat to Harry’s right, Hermione to his left, and Neville on the other side of Hermione. Across from them were McGonagall, Hooch, and Flitwick. The rest of the staff were further down the table, with Hagrid taking up half of his side. Perhaps Harry was being paranoid, but Hermione seemed to slip him a lot of curious glances all through lunch. 

* * *

After lunch, according to the overly-planned itinerary, they were going to a very specific grocery store to shop for breakfast and dinner items for the next couple days. Draco and Harry wandered around the store, picking up items they would snack on.

“Why are we doing this? Do we really need to be here?” Draco whined.

“I think the whole point of this holiday is to promote staff togetherness and unity. So part of that is making dinner and eating it together. Kind of like a family would… not that I would know what a family would do…” Harry trailed off and reached for a sleeve of something that looked like biscuits.

Draco pressed himself against Harry’s back and snaked his arms around his waist. He pressed kisses against the back of Harry’s neck and whispered in his ear, sending delightful shivers down his spine.

“I want to get back to the villa.”  _ Kiss. _ “Where we can be naked.”  _ Kiss. _ “And have our own unity.”  _ Kiss. _ “If you know what I mean.”  _ Kiss. _

Harry did know what he meant.

And so did his cock.

“Draco.. .” he whispered with a small grunt, “... we’re in the middle of a store, one of our colleagues could walk around a corner any minute, and you’re making me hard.”

“Good,” Draco chuckled.

The sound of a feminine-throat clearing jerked them back to reality. They whipped their heads in the direction of the sound. 

Hermione stood feet away from them, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “By all means, don’t let me interrupt you.”

Draco leaned the side of his head against the back of Harry’s. “Enjoying the show? Never pegged you for a voyeur, Granger.”

Hermione’s cheeks reddened at the implication. “I… not…” she spluttered, then turned on her heel and marched away.

“Shit.” Harry ran a hand through his hair.

“What’s the big deal?” Draco asked with a frown.

Harry sighed. “Hopefully it’s not. Let’s go put this junk food in the trolley so we don’t have to pay for it ourselves.”

* * *

While everyone else was busy helping put away the grocery purchases, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand. He held a finger to his lips, waggled his eyebrows, and snuck Harry away and off to their shared room.

“We can’t let everyone else do all the work! I feel bad not helping,” he said once they reached the privacy of the bedroom.

“Bloody Gryffindor.” Draco rolled his eyes and laughed. He picked up his itinerary and held it in front of Harry’s face. “It very clearly says ‘Free Time’ right there,” he pointed, “AKA, take off your pants.”

Draco pushed Harry backward onto the couch and climbed a straddle him. He held Harry’s face in his palms, gazing deep into Harry’s eyes. The cloud-grey eyes held some hurt when he asked, “Why did it bother you when Hermione saw us in the grocery store?” 

Harry wanted to look away, he felt guilty, but Draco’s intense stare pinned him in place. “I… I don’t even know or understand what is going on between us. How am I supposed to explain it to another person?”

The corner of Draco’s mouth quirked up. “How difficult is it to say you’re fucking someone?”

“Someone who was my childhood arch-enemy? It’s difficult.” Harry looked down and away, afraid of the answer to his next question. “Is that all this is? A fuck buddy of convenience?”

“Is that all you want it to be?” Draco ran his hand through Harry’s hair.

Harry was pulled back in at the touch. “Nothing about you is convenient,” he jested.

Draco laughed and looked down. Looking back up, he swallowed and said, “No, I suppose not. But you didn’t answer the question.” He leaned closer and ran a finger from Harry’s temple to his jawline. “Is that all you want it to be?”

“No.” Harry shook his head.

“Me neither.” Draco’s face lit up. “Now that we have that out of the way, will you please rip my clothes off me?”

They were soon both naked, hard, and sweating on the sofa. Harry lay on his back with Draco atop him and holding their cocks together in his hand; the pair of them together created quite the handful for Draco. In slow, painstakingly beautiful torture, he rubbed the length of his cock up and down Harry’s; their mingled precum forming just enough lubrication to be comfortable. 

He grinned down at Harry’s thrusting and groaning. Harry squinted his eyes closed and tilted his head back making his chest rise off the sofa. 

“Harry, have you ever had a finger in your arse before?” Draco asked, affection glowing in his eyes.

“No,” Harry breathed.

“Would you like to?”

“Godric, yes!” 

He’d been curious since last night what it might feel like. Draco had seemed to enjoy it, and that was with Harry not fully knowing what the fuck he was doing.

“ _ Accio _ lube,” Draco wandlessly said, and it shot out of his bag and into his hands. “Want to do this on your back or front?”

“I want to watch you,” Harry blurted out without thinking.

“Back it is then.” Draco winked. “Pull your legs up.”

Harry felt excited, nervous, apprehensive… all the things; he did not expect Draco to start licking him, however. 

Draco must have sensed the sudden tension because he gently rubbed Harry's thigh and said, “Shh… it’s ok. You’re going to like this. Trust me.”

He did trust Draco so he relaxed and closed his eyes. Harry inhaled sharply, and his eyes popped open at the sensation of Draco’s warm wet tongue lapping circles around his tight arsehole.

“How does that feel?” Draco asked between licks.

“Oh, my gods… that --” Harry panted, “-- feels… fucking amazing.”

A loud groan escaped Harry before he remembered they had not put up a silencing charm.  _ Shit. The whole damn house has probably heard us by now. _ He threw one up anyway, hoping it would be strong enough considering most of this attention was on the new feelings around his arse.

“You said you wanted to watch me, but you haven’t opened your eyes for a few minutes,” Draco quipped.

Harry opened his eyes through a haze of desire to watch Draco dip two fingers into the jar of lube. Then he spread it around the opening, before slowly inserting one finger up to the second knuckle.

“Fuuuuck,” Harry hissed.  _ How did Draco take my entire cock if this is what part of one finger felt like? _

Draco traced his finger around the inside of Harry, slowly helping him to relax and loosen up.

“Tell me if you think I need more lube,” Draco said. “It’s a different sort of feeling, but it shouldn’t hurt or be painful -- more of a full feeling.”

“It feels… fucking amazing,” Harry moaned.

“I think you’re ready for a second finger,” Draco said after a while and slipped in a second finger.

Harry felt the pressure and a full feeling like Draco had described. No pain; the pleasure felt beyond brilliant. He lost himself in the sensation of Draco touching just the right spot inside him, making him moan incoherently.

When Harry thought his body would explode from pleasure, Draco bent over and licked up his cock from base to dripping tip.

“Oh, fucking Merlin.” Harry rocked his hips.

Draco chuckled and licked up another side. Between the fingers in his ass and the mouth around his cock, Harry was making sounds that would make him blush under normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances. At least, they didn’t used to be; he could get used to this becoming normal.

Harry was close -- so close -- when Draco stilled his movements.

“Harry?”

Lamenting the lost friction, Harry looked deep into Draco’s desire-blown eyes.

“Will you look at me while you come?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded, gasping as Draco impaled his mouth back around his cock and working his fingers in and out of his tight hole with fervour.

“Draco,” Harry cried, peering into Draco’s blazing eyes as he came in his mouth.

After licking Harry’s cock clean, Draco kissed him, the taste of come, fresh on his lips and tongue.

Pulling back, Draco took his own erection in hand and began to pump. “You look so sexy when you come, especially when you’re screaming my name,” Draco panted.

“You look so sexy with your lips around my cock and your fingers in my ass,” Harry growled. “I want you to come on my chest, Draco.”

At Harry’s words, Draco found his release and came with a grunt. He licked Harry’s chest clean and kissed him again, the salty taste of them both mingled in his mouth.

Harry lay on the couch with Draco draped over him, both men recovering from another exhilarating experience. He still wasn’t sure how he could explain this to Hermione, or if he even wanted to. All he wanted to do was enjoy whatever this was as long as Draco wanted him, which he hoped was a very long time.

* * *

Some while later, neither knew actually how long because they fell asleep again, Neville knocked on their door to let them know dinner was ready. Harry blearily opened his eyes, released the silencing charm, and hollered that they would be out in a minute.

“Not hungry,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s chest.

Harry poked at Draco until he got off the sofa, then they both took a quick shower (alone) and headed out to the dining room attached to the small kitchen. 

Hermione was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping on red wine and talking to Flitwick, Neville was pulling something out of the oven that smelled delicious, and McGonagall and Hooch were setting the table.

Neville and Hermione had worked together to prepare dinner which included a super-rich beef casserole -- recipe courtesy of Hermione’s mother -- sides of mash and green salad, and Croatian cherry strudel from the bakery down the street. It looked delectable.

Most of the dinner conversation centred around the walking tour they had been on this morning. Even though he still had no idea what they were talking about, and he was surprised the topic hadn’t already been fully covered at lunch, Harry nodded and interjected agreements where it seemed appropriate.

Draco was less than helpful in Harry’s attempt to not arouse suspicion from their colleagues. While Harry did not sit next to Draco on purpose, Draco still managed to sit across from him, and part-way through dessert, Harry felt a foot rubbing along his calf.

He glanced left and right, up and down the table, before locking eyes on Draco, who was smirking back and looked proud of himself. Harry shoved a piece of the decedent strudel into his mouth and prayed to Merlin the foot wouldn’t go any higher than his knee. The last thing he needed was an erection at this particular dinner table with these particular people.

Harry made it through dinner, dessert, and Draco’s covert teasing with his sanity intact. McGonagall made quick work of the dirty dishes, spelling the kitchen to clean itself, once everyone seemed to have their fill. After dinner, everyone retired to their respective rooms for the evening.

Draco went about what appeared to be his normal bedtime routine, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt on his way to the ensuite. Harry felt his body flush at the retreating view of Draco’s pale back. Staring at the shut door long after Draco disappeared through it, Harry shook himself to action and began his own preparations for bed.

Teeth brushed and loungewear on, Harry and Draco crawled into bed and fell fast asleep curled up in each other’s arms as natural as if they had done it for years.

* * *

**Sunday**

Harry lingered in the vague area between sleep and wake, enjoying the last vestiges of sweet dreams when he felt a soft peck of lips in the corner of his eye.

“That was my eye,” he murmured.

A kiss on his nose.

“Closer -- got my nose that time,” he chuckled, still not opening his eyes.

The lips finally found their way to his mouth in a blissful storm of feather-light kisses and delicate caresses.

“Good morning,” Draco said with a yawn. “What’s on the itinerary for today?”

“You know I didn’t pay attention in that meeting. At this point, the only thing I know is I want to stay in this room and shag you silly.” Harry lost himself, nuzzling his face into Draco’s neck.

“What happened to The Harry who was worried people would notice if we stayed in here and never came out?” Draco drawled.

Harry planted playful love bites up Draco’s neck. “He disappeared when he learned he was more than a convenience fuck.”

Draco groaned, “Before this goes much further, I have to piss.”

Laughing, Harry rolled off Draco and let him take care of his morning business. While Draco urinated, Harry checked the itinerary. There was nothing scheduled until noon, so they laid around all morning talking, kissing, and being in no particular hurry to do anything or go anywhere. 

Around ten o’clock, Draco announced he was going to take a shower before they were expected to make an appearance at brunch.

Harry listened to the water run for a few minutes, then shut off. He stripped himself of his clothing and went to join Draco in the ensuite.

Draco had a towel wrapped around his lower body and was preening his face and hair in the simple, fogged mirror over the double vanity.

Harry walked up behind him, placed his hands on the vanity, trapping Draco between his arms, and pressed his morning wood against Draco’s backside.

He buried his face against Draco’s neck and inhaled deeply. “Mmm… you smell good.” Then he nibbled and licked his way up Draco’s neck. “Mmm… you taste good, too.”

Quite involuntarily, he thrust his hips forward, rubbing his cock against the fluffy towel separating them.

“This towel has to go,” Harry growled and ripped it off Draco’s frame.

He spun Draco around and lifted him to sit on the white marble vanity. Harry swiped his tongue over one nipple then the other, eliciting a throaty groan from the man. Planting kisses down Draco’s damp torso, he watched in awe at the look of pure rapture on Draco’s face. 

Draco lifted his legs, propping his heels on the edge of the vanity, and leaned back on the mirror to allow Harry access to his ass.

Thinking back to last night, he attempted to replicate what Draco had done to him. He spread Draco’s arse cheeks wide. The pink little hole was just begging for Harry to lick it, so he did. Tentatively at first, he’d never licked another person here before. But the beautiful moans escaping Draco’s mouth urged him on.

Building up a lot of spittle, he swirled his tongue all around the tiny hole. Curiosity got the better of him, and he tried poking his tongue inside; that got a reaction. Draco whimpered and pleaded his name. Harry licked a finger and swirled it around the hole, sticking it in up to his first knuckle.

“Saliva is not lube, Harry,” Draco panted.

Magicking the door open, Harry  _ Accio _ ’d the lube. He dipped in three fingers and set the jar within reach on the counter. Replacing his tongue with a lubed finger, he let his mouth travel to Draco’s dripping cock. Draco let out a gasp and a curse when Harry slipped one finger inside the warm, tight hole.

“I’m not putting up a silencing charm, you’ll have to be quiet,” Harry chuckled.

“I’ll be as loud as I fucking want to be; I have no shame,” Draco groaned.

_ We’ll see about that. _ Harry looked around and found a clean, dry flannel, wadded it up and stuck it in Draco’s mouth.

Draco growled around his makeshift gag and narrowed his eyes. His displeasure did not last long because soon Harry had added one, then two fingers to the first one stretching and pumping his asshole. All Draco could do was roll his hips and ride Harry’s fingers.

Pulling his fingers out, Harry helped Draco to a standing position. Then he turned him around and bent him forward over the vanity. Slicking his cock with more lube, he lined up at Draco’s entrance and pressed in just the tip.

Arching his back, Draco pushed into Harry for more.

Harry placed one hand on Draco’s back and the other on his shoulder to keep him in place. “Fuck, Draco. Your ass is so tight,” he groaned and slipped in a bit more past the tight ring.

Draco moaned against the gag in his mouth.

Leaning forward over Draco’s back, Harry pressed in deeper and breathed in Draco’s ear, “I kind of like this you-not-being-able-to-talk thing.” He chuckled at Draco’s greedy moan.

Sweat beaded on Harry’s forehead from the lingering humidity of Draco’s shower. He wrapped one arm around Draco’s waist and thrust into him with abandon.  _ Mine, _ he thought.

Not wanting to come too soon, he pulled his cock out of Draco’s arse and helped him to a standing position.

“Come here.” Harry sat on the floor and leaned against the tub. The white, ceramic, tile floor was cold on Harry’s arse, as was the claw-foot tub on his back. He wasn’t sure if the shiver up his spine was from that or if it was the lustful look in Draco’s eyes as he followed Harry.

He sat down atop Harry’s cock with his back pressed against Harry’s chest. Tilting his head back next to Harry, Draco slowly slid up and down the mighty cock.

Harry watched in ecstasy as Draco’s cock flapped against his flat abdomen, leaving a trail of precum in its wake.

“Draco,” he whispered, “I could watch you ride my cock all day.”

Moaning, Draco reached a hand back to grab a fistful of Harry’s hair. With the other hand, he placed Harry’s hand around his cock and made a whimpering, pleading sound through the flannel.

Panting, Harry stroked Draco up and down. “Ride my cock, Draco. Fuck… yes.” He lost all semblance of self-control, not that he possessed much, to begin with, and thrust his hips up, slamming and matching Draco’s pace coming down.

Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Draco, I’m… I’m close.” Harry was panting from desire and exertion.

Nodding, Draco came with a muffled cry. Electricity and lightning pulsed in Harry’s veins as Draco tightened around his cock, sending him over the edge as well.

Harry removed the flannel from Draco’s mouth and kissed him softly. “Was that ok?” he asked, a little worried he might have gone too far stuffing the cloth in Draco’s mouth.

Chuckling, Draco said, “It was perfect, you fucking wanker.”

* * *

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t care about the tradition of the staff holiday that McGonagall was preserving; the witch had put a lot of thought and planning into it. But he finally agreed with Draco that he would rather stay in their room for the rest of the day.

Harry was surprised to not receive a message back or a pounding on the door when he sent a Patronus to let the rest of the house know that he and Draco would not be joining them on the tours they had scheduled that afternoon. He was perfectly happy lazing about naked with Draco and exploring each other further. Once the term started, it was difficult to say how much time they would have for just the two of them.

All in all, it was the best holiday Harry could remember.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a lot of time researching to choose where to send the staff on holiday and now I really want to visit Croatia and the Balkans. Like, really bad!  
> The title of the fic translates to "Holiday" in Croatian.
> 
> Anonymous Prompter: I hope I brought to life what you imagined in your mind when you submitted this prompt. <3
> 
> And I have to share my husband's summary suggestion: "Harry Potter sticks his peen in things. The end." He's so eloquent. XD
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://sunflower-swan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> XOXO


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